


Broken Dishes

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: ABDL, Bondage, Chastity Device, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Punishment, Shaving, Waxing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: “I want you to be really mean to me,” said Jack.Jack asks Mark for some... special treatment. Mark runs with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, JJ, for this idea. <3

“I want you to be really mean to me,” said Jack. 

“What kinda mean?” Mark took a bite of his dinner, making a face when half of his sandwich fell out of the back of it.

“Like….” Jack leaned his chair back, on two legs. “Like… calling my masculinity in question. Maybe the whole ABDL humiliation thing, only moreso.”

“Moreso?” Mark raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Like… completely taking away an adult thing.” 

“Like locking your dick away?”

“Yeah, but more than that.” Jack gestured. “Like… something that would have an… impact on me. A real one.” 

“Hmm… it’d have to be a good reason,” said Mark. “I can’t muster up that kinda… you know, vindictiveness, without a reason.”

“Somehow,” said Jack, still balanced on the back legs of his chair, “I think I’ll find a way to do it.”

Mark snorted. 

“Just nothing that’ll cost too much money, okay? Or public ridicule.” 

“But private ridicule is okay?” 

“Private ridicule is _always_ okay,” said Jack, and he took a particularly hard rock.

And fell off his chair. 

“That’s good,” said Mark, looking down at Jack. “I don’t really know what you’d do with yourself otherwise.”

Jack gave him the finger, but he was grinning.

* * * 

The crash was pretty… spectacular. 

Jack was almost impressed with himself, although he knew things were about to get really, really loud. 

Mark wasn’t usually one to do much shouting, but Jack had… outdone himself this time.

It wasn’t even entirely on purpose.

* * * 

Mark came skidding into the kitchen with a panicked expression. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” 

“... might’ve dropped some plates,” said Jack. 

“What.” Mark blinked, dumbstruck. His face was starting to turn pink. 

“You know, I, uh, some of the plates in my studio might have been… accumulating.”

“Accumulating.” Mark’s voice was flat. 

So was his face. 

“You know how it goes….”

“No,” Mark said. “I don’t. When I finish a plate, I bring it back to the kitchen.” He looked down. “And how did they end up breaking?”

“... might have been a bunch of plates.”

“How many is a bunch?”

“Like… eight.”

“ _Eight plates_?!”

“... haven’t cleaned the studio in a while.”

“Right.” Mark grabbed Jack by the back of the shirt. He dragged Jack into the living room, and shoved him onto the couch.

“Give me your phone,” said Mark, holding his hand out. 

“What?”

“Your phone,” Mark said, slowly and carefully. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” 

“Because you are too Little,” said Mark. “You’re very obviously way too Little.”

“How am I too Little?” Jack stood up, and Mark shoved him back down. 

“You just broke eight goddamn plates,” said Mark, and he was very clearly, holding on to his temper by the skin of his teeth. “I can’t even trust you to sit on a chair without tilting it over. You can’t be trusted with a goddamn phone.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said. 

“Well,” said Mark, and now he was very much on the end of his rope. “If you do not stay on this couch, I will beat you with my belt, and then I will do the rest of your punishment.”

“... rest of my punishment?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’s the rest of my -”

“Stay. On. The couch.” 

* * * 

Jack stayed on the couch.

Until he heard Mark bellow.

“Shit, Mark, are you okay?” 

Jack got off the couch, heading to the kitchen.

“Get back on the goddamn couch,” Mark bellowed, holding a paper towel to his finger. “You are in _so_ much trouble when I get this cleaned up.”

“Do you need -” 

“ _No_!”

“But -”

“On the couch!”

Mark was actually yelling, which was… wow. 

Holy shit. 

“Are you -”

Mark grabbed Jack by the arm, hard enough to bruise, and he yanked Jack to bedroom.

“You can’t fucking listen, can you?” He shoved Jack down onto the bed, face down. 

Then there was a double tap on Jack’s hip.

Jack gave a thumbs up. 

He heard Mark give a sigh, and then there was a big hand on his lower back, forcing his face into the bed.

“You’re just a stupid little baby,” said Mark. “You’re a brat who wasted my time, who broke all our goddamn dishes, and now I have to take time out of my day to discipline you for not following a basic fucking instruction.” 

Jack struggled, anxiety beginning to cloud up his mind. 

He had such a boner. 

Fucking weird sexual reactions.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Jack argued. 

“You didn’t listen to me when I told you to stay on the couch. You couldn’t even be enough of an adult to remember to bring your plates back, or to at least make two trips so you don’t break every dish we fucking own.” 

Mark grabbed Jack by the belt loops, and he pulled Jack’s pants down, leaving him bare assed, face down on the bed. 

“You’re not even wearing any boxers,” Mark said, indignant. He was doing something with Jack’s pants - it wasn’t until Jack felt the light tap of the belt against his ass. 

There was a pause, and then Jack gave a thumbs up.

At which point the belt connected with his ass at high speed. 

Jack howled, trying to get away, but the bed dipped down, and Mark’s knee was digging into his lower back. 

“Stay still,” Mark growled, and he began to hit Jack harder, as Jack wriggled under him, sobbing, groaning, trying to get loose.

It wasn’t an act either - the hits _hurt_ , and Mark put his shoulder into it, until Jack was full on crying, tears down his face, soaking into the bed.

The pain was deep and blunt, sinking down into his bones, under his skin. It left him shaking and horny, humping against the bed - or at least, he tried to. Mark grabbing a handful of his hair made him pause. 

He lost count of the hits - there were at least fifteen. 

His ass was one big throbbing, sore mess, and his cock was hard and leaking. 

“Are you sorry, Jackaboy?” Mark grabbed Jack by the hair, forcing his face harder into the bed. “Are you well and truly sorry?”

“Yes,” Jack said, his voice muffled. “Very sorry! I’m never gonna hoard dishes again!” 

“That’s not what this is about,” Mark said, and he grabbed a handful of Jack’s ass and squeezed. 

Jack yelped, jerking forward, as his sore, bruised backside was further abused. 

“So what’s this about?”

“I told you not to get off the couch,” said Mark, and he slapped Jack on the ass. 

The pain erupted like a volcano, and his cock twitched.

He humped the bed, shamelessly, until Mark grabbed him by the hair and rolled him onto his back. 

This position was familiar, at least. 

“Are you gonna put me in nappies?”

“You’ll see,” said Mark. He was going to the closet, beto the nding down to dig through his kink box, and Jack got up on his elbows to see whatever it was that Mark was doing. 

He was getting… rope?

“Are you going to just tie me up and put me in nappies?”

That was a pretty normal Saturday, honestly. 

“I’m going to gag you, if you’re not careful,” Mark said sharply. “You’ve been a very bad little boy.”

“I’m a big boy,” Jack said cheekily. 

Mark glared at him. 

“Big boys don’t make messes like that,” he intoned, and climbed onto the bed, holding a coil of rope. He dropped it for a moment, yanking Jack’s shirt up over his head and tossing it to the side.

“Bullshit,” Jack said, as Mark tied his arms up to the bedpost. 

Mark drew his hand back, making eye contact with Jack. He raised an eyebrow.

Jack nodded. 

Mark slapped him across the face, and Jack whimpered, as the pain registered, a throbbing, swollen kind of pain. His ear was ringing. 

“None of that,” said Mark, and he pulled the rope tight, so that Jack’s arms were stretched uncomfortably over his head. “Now.” he grabbed Jack’s hair, forcing his head back. “Daddy has to go get some things ready.” He grabbed a handful of Jack’s thigh and squeezed. 

Jack moaned and whined, trying to get away. 

Ow. 

“Be a good boy,” Mark said again, and then he was up and off. 

He turned the baby monitor on the bedside table on, and took the other one with him.

* * * 

Was this the punishment?

 

Jack might just go a little crazy. 

He lay there for who even knew how long - long enough that he was squirming, trying to get comfortable. He might have dozed a bit. 

He knew better than to whine - Mark could probably have a field day with his thighs, especially in this position. 

So he stayed on his back, stayed quiet, and just… waited.

* * * 

He was shaken out of his daze by the bed dipping down again, as Mark sat down next to him, placing something or other on the bedside table.

“Now,” said Mark, “you don’t look very much like Daddy’s little boy right now, do you?” 

Jack blinked at him, his head bleary and his eyes adjusting to the light being turned on. 

“Good little boys are nice and smooth,” said Mark, running a hand along Jack’s furry chest, moving to his equally hairy armpits. “Since you’re obviously such a little boy, you running around with all of this extra hair is false advertising, don’t you think?”

He was… putting stuff on Jack’s chest. What was that? 

… corn starch?

Wait a minute.

Jack looked over at what was on the bedside table. 

.. oh fuck. 

“Let’s get started, baby boy,” said Mark, and he was holding a little bowl full of something goopy. 

“You’re seriously waxing off my chest?”

“Among other things,” said Mark, and he smiled with all his teeth. 

* * * 

Having his chest waxed sucked. It was uncomfortable as all hell, and he almost screamed when Mark got the hair around his nipples. 

He sagged back against the bed, finally relaxing as the last of the hair was removed.

“There we go,” said Mark, running his hands along Jack’s smooth torso.”That’s a good start.”

“A good… start?” Jack blinked up at him, lost in the haze of pain and embarrassment. 

“Well,” said Mark, and he tickled Jack’s armpit. “We’ve still got a ways to go.”

* * * 

The armpits hurt. It hurt a lot. 

Jack was actually crying as the last strip was yanked off, taking all of his armpit hair with it. 

“Nice and smooth,” said Mark, and he tickled Jack, which made him squeal and squirm. 

“So we’re done now?” Jack’s voice was hopeful.

“Babies should be seen and not heard,” said Mark. 

He was getting more wax.

Oh god.

Where else was there to put wax?!

* * * 

Everywhere, it turned out. 

Jack’s arms were hairless, for the first time since he was about sixteen. 

His back was hairless, his hands, his legs, his belly. 

It was when Mark starting applying the warm wax to around his dick that Jack got nervous. 

“Are you sure this won’t cause damage?” He licked his lips.

Mark looked up at Jack, and he lost his stern daddy face for a moment. 

“I did some research,” Mark said. “I promise. I won’t do any damage.”

“Apart from my dignity,” Jack grumbled. 

“You took away your own dignity when you insisted on carrying eight fucking plates at the same time,” Mark growled, and his bad mood seemed to have come back.

He wasn’t gentle when he waxed the hair off of Jack’s groin, and Jack screamed so loudly his voice broke. 

To say nothing of the way he screamed when Mark got to his balls. 

That was, quite possibly, the worst pain of his life. 

His balls wanted to crawl back into his body. 

And then the wax was being applied to his perineum. 

He screamed again, thrashing under Mark, and Mark was grinning. 

Sometimes, Jack forgot how much of a sadist he was. 

“Almost done, baby,” Mark cooed.

“... almost?” 

His sore, bruised ass was grabbed, and he groaned. 

“You’re seriously waxing my butt?”

“They do say smooth as a baby’s bottom, don’t they?” 

Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. 

* * * 

“You’re gonna pull my skin off,” Jack mumbled, when the last of the wax had been pulled off of his ass, leaving it smooth and stinging. 

“Almost done,” Mark said, for what felt like the billionth time. 

“You keep saying that,” Jack groaned. “You’re gonna leave me with no hair. Anywhere. I’m gonna look like a fucking egg.”

“I’d never take away your cute green hair,” said Mark, and he was pushing Jack further onto his back, his knees around his shoulders. 

He was… he was pulling apart the cheeks of Jack’s ass, and he was….

“You are _not_ waxing my asshole!” Jack yelled. 

Mark paused. 

“Is that a red “not” or a “not-not”?” 

“A not-not,” said Jack, and he was going to be kicking himself about this in a few minutes.

But that was future Jack’s problem. 

Current Jack had a pain boner that you could use as a hole punch. 

“Very good,” said Mark, and he applied the sheet to the hot wax, which was… it was warm and runny and it was weirdly comfortable - it was like wax play, only not. 

Very much not. 

The pain.. It was… it was pain. 

It was a pain that didn’t have a descriptor, because it was going to eat him alive.

If his hands hadn’t been bound above his head, he would have grabbed his own ass and whimpered a lot. 

“Good boy,” Mark cooed, and yeah, he was grinning. “We’re going to the bathroom now, give you a nice bath. Doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Jack just groaned.

* * * 

He was walking funny, gingerly, as they walked to the bathroom. 

When Mark sat him down on the toilet seat, Jack just… sat. 

He needed to catch his breath. 

His whole body was _glowing_ in the florescent light, and everything was pink and tingly. 

“Now,” said Mark, and he crouched down in front of Jack, holding a can and something else in his hands. “The final touch.”

“Final touch?” Jack blinked up at Mark, confused. “Wait a minute. You’re not gonna shave off my eyebrows, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” said Mark, and he sounded annoyed. “Babies have eyebrows. Now look up.” 

There was a warm, wet washcloth, being applied to… his face.

Oh fuck. 

“You’re shaving off my beard?”

“It’s barely a beard,” Mark said absently, spraying shaving cream into his hand and rubbing it along Jack’s jaw. “And little boys don’t have beards.” 

“Can’t I keep it?” Jack hated the whining in his tone, and the anxiety in his gut. 

Did he really want Mark to go this far?

Mark made eye contact, and he raised an eyebrow. 

Jack hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The razor rasped across Jack’s face, taking Jack’s hard won facial hair with it. 

“You’re lying with it, baby,” Mark said, and he was using his exaggerated Daddy voice, slow and deep. “Facial hair is for grown ups, not for little babies like you.”

“But I’m not -”

“Lying will get you more spanking,” said Mark, carefully going along Jack’s cheeks now. “And if you keep talking, Daddy is gonna cut you by accident.”

Jack huffed out of his nose, but he didn’t say anything.

The only noise in the small room was the scrape of the razor and their breathing. 

Jack was so hard, his ass throbbing in time with all the rest of him. 

It was a novel experience - _all_ of him was hurting, so in a weird way nothing hurt. He was riding some kind of endorphin high, which left him spaced out and loopy.

Or maybe it was the arousal. 

Or maybe it was headspace. 

He stared up at Mark, and he smiled at him, resisting the urge to put his thumb in his mouth.

… yeah, this was headspace. 

“There we go,” Mark cooed, after who knew how long, after he’d shaved Jack’s neck, Jack’s cheeks, even the spot under the nose. “Let’s wash you off, baby boy. Then we can get you nice and protected.”

“Protected?” Jack blinked up at Mark. 

His face was kinda cold, and everything was tender, sensitive. 

“Can’t let little babies walk around unprotected,” said Mark, and he helped Jack up, leading him into the shower. “Can you stay standing up, for Daddy to rinse you off?” 

Jack blinked at him, processing the words. 

Yeah, he was deep in headspace.

“Oh, Daddy’s little boy is very Little, huh?” Mark made a thinking face, then pulled his own shirt off, kicking his pants off as well, leaving him naked. 

He had such a hard on. 

“Well, you can shower with me, buddy.”

“Shower?”

“Yeah,” said Mark. “Get all that extra loose hair off of you.”

Jack’s brain told him to say some smartass thing. 

His mouth decided that it wanted to say “Yes, Daddy.”

Mark kissed Jack on the forehead. 

“Good boy.”

* * * 

Jack leaned against Mark, directly in the spray of the water, and he tried not to sob.

His skin was _so_ sensitive, and it hurt, it hurt so much more than it had any goddamn right to. 

Mark was rubbing the soap across him, carefully, and that was sore as well, but Mark was very clearly into it. 

Mark’s cock was hard against Jack’s throbbing, bruised ass, and Mark’s hands were grabbing onto Jack’s hips, hard enough for even more bruises. He was fucking between Jack’s butt cheeks, which were apparently silky and smooth. 

The hair on his chest was almost itchy against Jack’s back, and he shivered, his own cock hard and desperate between his legs, throbbing up against his belly. 

“When you’re a big boy,” Mark whispered into Jack’s ear, “you’ll grow hair like Daddy’s.” He rubbed his chin against Jack’s cheek, and Jack whined, as Mark’s stubble abraded the sensitive skin. 

“You’ll get so much bigger here, too,” said Mark, wrapping his hand around Jack’s cock. “Aren’t you excited?” 

“I’m already… mm… already… ah!” Jack humped against Mark’s hand, as Mark moved his own cock down between Jack’s thighs, and Jack squeezed them together, tightening his thighs. 

“You’re so smooth, baby. You’re so soft.” Mark kissed him noisily on the temple, his thrusts speeding up. “Such a good baby for your Daddy.”

“I’m… I… I….” Jack’s eyes rolled back into his head, as Mark did something tricky with his wrist, as Mark’s own cock pressed against Jack’s cock, still sensitive from the wax. 

Mark came across Jack’s thighs and his balls, and he pulled away, leaving Jack shaking and desperate. 

“Mark?” 

“Who’s Mark?” Mark shivered, and gave himself a rinse down. He grabbed a washcloth, and wiped Jack down, with businesslike efficiency. “I’m your Daddy.”

Jack sighed, and then he squawked, as the washcloth went between the cheeks of his ass. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Making sure my little boy is clean,” said Mark, and he ignored Jack’s indignant noises, holding his ass open and washing thoroughly. 

By the time the shower was over, Jack was very clean, and had more or less surrendered his dignity. 

He even let Mark take him out and towel him down, followed Mark into the bedroom. 

* * * 

“Now,” said Mark, and he was still using his goddamn Daddy voice.

Admittedly, he had Jack lying on an open diaper, and Jack was two thirds into headspace, but still. 

Jack’s cock twitched.

He was pretty soft - the cold air, and the descent into headspace leaving him quiet.

“Just relax,” Mark said quietly, and something… cold was against Jack’s balls, which was…. 

“What is that?”

“Baby boys don’t ask questions,” Mark said sharply, and the cold whatever it was settled around the base of Jack’s cock, and then the rest of his cock was being caged up. 

It was the goddamn chastity belt. 

Jack groaned. 

“Isn’t this going overboard?” Jack whined.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of eight fucking dishes breaking,” Mark growled, and Jack whined, covering his face with both hands. 

“There we go,” said Mark, and then he was leaning back and... taking a picture?!

“What are you -”

“What a fussy little baby I’ve got,” Mark said, and he reached into the box of baby stuff, pulling out Jack’s green pacifier and shoving it into Jack’s mouth. 

“I’m not fussy,” Jack said around the pacifier.

“No?” Mark made eye contact, and he raised an eyebrow. “That would mean you’re back talking. Do you know what happens to Little boys who backtalk?” He grabbed a handful of thigh, he squeezed it hard enough that Jack cried out, dropping the pacifier. 

“No, no,” Jack said quickly. “No, it’s not.” 

“Good boy,” said Mark, replacing the pacifier. He powdered Jack up, taped him in, and he even kissed Jack’s tummy, wearing his big, dumb grin. “Such a good baby for Daddy.”

Jack sighed, but he smiled nervously up at Mark.

“Now,” said Mark, “Daddy is gonna go finish cleaning up the kitchen. You’re gonna stay here and nap.” 

“But I’m not -”

“Would you rather Daddy give you some nice warm formula? That always sets you off to sleep.”

Jack wrinkled his nose. He’d only been bad enough to have baby formula a few times, and... well, it was pretty foul. 

“I’ll be good, Daddy,” Jack said quietly. 

“Good boy,” said Mark, and he kissed the top of his head. “Have a good nap.”

Jack rolled onto his tummy, his caged cock surrounded by cushy padding and his sore backside throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

He was horny but unable to get an erection, hyped up but exhausted, all but twitching with the humiliation of it….

Wait a sec. He was also pretty much naked. 

“Mark? I mean, uh… Daddy?”

Mark stuck his head into the room. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Can I have a shirt, please?” Jack kept his voice meek. 

“Good boy, asking so nicely,” Mark said, and he threw a shirt at Jack.

When had Mark put on pants? He was still shirtless, and Jack licked his lips, not even subtle in his ogling. 

“Anything else?”

Jack shook his head. 

Mark headed out of the bedroom, and Jack pulled the shirt on. It was one of Mark’s, and it hung off of him like a sack. 

That was better, at least. Having Daddy’s smell so close - it was an old shirt, soft and ragged. 

With a sigh, Jack burrowed down into his pillow, and closed his eyes.

* * * 

Jack woke up, who knew after how long, and he blinked in the dim light. 

Mark was on the bed next to him, laptop in his lap. He reached out to pat the top of Jack’s head, when Jack started to move. 

“What’s up?” Mark’s voice was back to normal. “I think the scene is over. How do you feel?”

Jack sat up and yawned, rubbing his eyes. 

“How long was I asleep?” 

“Two hours,” said Mark. “You were pretty bushed - I figured you could use the nap.”

“Thanks,” said Jack, leaning against Mark and nuzzling into his neck. “You wanna have dinner soon?”

“I mean, I would,” said Mark, and a touch of testiness came up in his voice, “but _someone_ broke almost all of our plates.”

“You fucking dumbass,” Jack said, snickering. “You think I’d use our plates?” 

“What?”

“Remember when I went to the thrift store, for a cheap dress, for that one scene?”

“Yeah?”

“I bought a bunch of cheapass plates. Did you not notice that none of them actually matched?” 

“... as a matter of fact,” said Mark, and he sounded sheepish, “I didn’t.”

Jack snorted. 

“So are you gonna take me outta this thing?”

“Which thing?” 

“The cage,” said Jack. “I’d, uh… I’d like to stay dipped, if that’s okay?”

“Are you feeling Little?” Mark’s tone was soft. “We can have some of your Little food, if you’d like, like goulash?” 

“No, I’m okay,” said Jack. “I mean, uh, I’m not Little.” He laughed, a bit self conscious. “But my ass is still sore.”

Mark snickered, and he kissed Jack. 

Jack leaned against him, rubbing his smooth legs together. 

Maybe he’d do this again, sometime. 

He’d have to buy more cheap dishes, though.


End file.
